


A Christmas Crowley

by Redboozter



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, innefable husbands
Genre: Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, References to A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21873808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redboozter/pseuds/Redboozter
Summary: Christmas is just right around the corner. Crowley and Aziraphale make preparations for what would be their first Christmas after "the Armageddon that didn't happen". But Crowley is not satisfied with all Aziraphale's excitement about the festive date. This turns out to be an argument, which turns out to be a long story.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 8





	A Christmas Crowley

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hail/gifts).



> This is a Secret Santa's gift for Hail. Happy Xmas Hail!!! ^^

**Intro**

Armed with a shopping list and a fountain pen, Aziraphale walked into the crowded shop. Less than a week before Christmas, even the air inside was thin.

Less than a meter behind the Angel, with a full shopping cart and a face that simultaneously showed both boredom and irritation, came Crowley, always trying not to bump into someone every time they made a turn or hooked the cart with someone else's customer, which was even more complicated to solve and sometimes a little embarrassing.

The Angel was free as a butterfly, strolling among shelves full of glittery colored balls and every kind of Christmas ornament the human being had ever been able to invent.

The Demon on the other hand thought that place was even worse than Hell in some points. Hell was less colorful, which was definitely a plus for it. And it didn't play looped Christmas music, which also gave the underworld a nice edge over that department store, which in turn could receive several hellish adjectives.

He had accepted it all for the Angel, and only for him. Just as he'd agreed to pick a pine tree and Aziraphale had spent hours deciding which one to take, even with Crowley pointing out the one he considered best, according to his knowledge of plants. In the end, the Angel had indeed decided to take the one Crowley had pointed out from the beginning, but he had to see each one until he was sure it was the perfect choice.

"Aziraphale!" The Demon shouted from the back of the cart, trying to get the Angel's attention, almost having to scale their things a little to find a gap that would allow him to see the other, so many stuff crowding his vision.

"Hm ...?" The Angel barely listened, his attention sucked in by a huge section of colored candles of all shapes, sizes and colors. All very delicate and, of course, ‘lovely’, within the sight of Aziraphale. He couldn't take just one ... or two ...

Crowley considered that whoever created it, if it were him, would have had reason to be proud. After all, people spent hours in endless suffering there, walking like automatons under hypnotic effect, being tempted to buy unnecessary things, and in the end, spent all the money they had gathered all year with them. And every year this was repeated.

Trees, ornaments, and the rest ... Crowley was no expert, much more an involuntary observer. He was analyzing how much of this he still had to bear, considering the rest of the things Aziraphale intended to buy. As the Angel approached to see the candles, bringing a second cart with them, Crowley sighed in despair.

“Angel, are you sure we need all these things? We won’t be able to fit all these decorations in the bookshop ... ” The Demon tried to contain the Angel's insatiable Christmas spirit with a mild but ineffective approach.

“Cuz, my dear boy, I'm just following the list, some things are still missing. Why don’t you miracle a chair for yourself? Waiting while seating is easier and less tiring. ”And he went back to some other section, looking at it carefully, as if they were all going to have a serious consequence if not done correctly. Suddenly he was very serious about something that should be a party.

-x-

At the end of the whole tour in the store, Crowley couldn’t bear the thought of getting into an endless queue for all that and resolved to pay in a miracle, which raised indignant protests from the Angel. The feeling of purchasing items manually seemed to be part of the tradition and the Demon had ruined it.

Aziraphale pouted and rolled his eyes as he carried the packages to the car and Crowley crawled, almost snake-shaped, to reach the steering wheel of the Bentley, hoping he didn't have to go through something like this in a long time. After all, one year's decorations were kept for years to come, weren't they?

“Ah, Crowley, don't be grumpy. The fun is in choosing new ornaments. ”Aziraphale argued over the subject, giving a slight smile.

“So will we do this every year?” Rhetorical question.

"No doubt about it, my dear..." The Angel replied, bursting with joy at revenge for the cashier episode.

Now Crowley was rooting for a new Armageddon. Could it happen before Christmas the following year? He prayed to Satan that it did. With all the fervor a Demon is capable of.

Then, he drove quietly and defeated to the bookstore. He helped Aziraphale with all the stuff and finally collapsed on the couch, hoping that at least the Angel would offer him a drink as a reward for the help. The weather outside was getting very cold, especially for a snake, but not a snowflake had fallen yet.

Aziraphale, however, just hung up his coat and went back to the conversation with Crowley, with such excitement and happiness that he couldn’t realize that it might be too early for that.

"Well ... I was wondering if you could go with me to choose some gifts." He spoke in a sweet voice he used when he wanted something from the other.

"Gifts for who?" Crowley snapped, practically feeling where that conversation was going. It wasn't just another endless shopping session, was it? There were other people involved that Christmas.

“You know, our friends, the kids, some neighbors…”

“Aziraphale… I agreed with the tree, and then with the decorations. Couldn't we stop there? Do we need to expand this 'Christmas spirit' by giving away gifts?”

"But of course! We need presents and food too! ”He said getting progressively excited. "You're going to help me with the food, aren't you?"

“Why the hell do we need all this, Aziraphale?” Why all the work? And to whom?

“Cuz it is Christmas, Crowley! Isn't that obvious? ”To the Demon, it wasn't. After all, he didn't celebrate that date. He was a Demon, duh.

“I am a Demon, Aziraphale. I don't celebrate Christmas. Isn't that obvious? ”He spoke sarcastically, already feeling his patience drain.

The Angel approached the Demon and took his hands, as if speaking to a five year old kid.

"Oh, so is this your first time?" He said in a condescending tone. “Let me explain the meaning of Chist- ”

“I'm not stupid, Aziraphale! I know what Christmas is about ... or what they say it is. But for me it's just a normal day .. And it should be for you too. After all, we were there when he was born .. And when he died too. You know it was no big deal. ”

“But you don't understand, Crowley… It takes a little more abstraction than that. It's not just about the birth of Christ, it's about gathering our friends and celebrating and… ”He was going to talk about all the other beneficial features of Christmas and how it was an important holiday for many people regardless of religious motives. However, Crowley went straight as an arrow at what really mattered. _Aziraphale wasn't planning Christmas just for the two of them_.

"Did you invite more people to come here?" He asked in a menacing tone.

"Yes ..." The Angel replied uncomfortably. Bland smile “Plenty of people.”

“Aziraphale, let me tell you this straight, I _don't want_ more people, I don't like people. I bet you invited a gang of little kids and I won't go through that either! I thought it was just you and me... But you invented ornaments, gifts and food to prepare and all these people to deal with and all this for a ridiculous date, which you know is not the birth of anyone, that was manipulated to be on the very day of the celebration of a pagan God, which is a stupidly commercial date, made for you and everyone else to spend money stupidly and that all this bullshit of celebration and union and love is a lie! It only lasts a day and then everyone hates each other again as they did before! What are you going to do about all this?!”

“Keep Christmas as it should be,” said the Angel with some pride and conviction. “Christmas is ‘uncancelable’!”

"Right. Then I'm leaving. Celebrate with your friends. I'll be home, away from you and all these problems. ”

Crowley got up and started walking out of the bookstore and then Aziraphale realized he was being serious. He ran beside him trying to make the Demon give up the idea.

"Wait, Crowley, no, please, stay ... People will miss you, I will miss you!" He spoke a little exasperated, knowing that he couldn’t change the other's decision at the level of irritation he was.

“You just want me to carry more boxes and help prepare a turkey. I'm out.” He said slamming the shop door. Aziraphale still ran, accompanying him in the cold, without a coat and shouted as he entered the Bentley.

“It won't be the same without you!” He said with a frown and a sad look, like an abandoned puppy.

“You'll have a lot of company! You won't even remember me! ”He snapped before starting the car, leaving the Angel alone by the shop door and watching the car until it became an almost invisible spot at the end of the street.

It took about five minutes for Aziraphale to realize Crowley wasn't coming back. Neither did he understand why the other was so angry. The Angel just hoped it would pass the other day. After all, he didn't want to spend their first Christmas without him.

**Chapter 1**

The days passed and Aziraphale continued to do his chores. He lovingly adorned his bookstore, invited his friends to share the date with him using his old landline to reach Anathema and Newt, Adam and the Them, and other friends, neighbors and acquaintances the Angel thought should be present.

He bought gifts for everyone, including a special one for the one who wouldn't be there on Christmas Eve, gathered the ingredients needed to make all the typical food, keeping in mind how many people he should receive, and waited in jubilation for the big day.

Except for a certain detail. Crowley hadn’t appeared anymore. Not even for a casual visit. Aziraphale sighed hopelessly every time he remembered the silly fight they had had and that Crowley would spend Christmas alone in his almost barren apartment, except for the small cluster of plants.

A few days before Christmas, he decided to call the other. And his call fell on Crowley’s old answering machine.

“Oi, you called Anthony J. Crowley, at the moment I can't answer it, obviously, and if it's Aziraphale, no, I still don't want to spend Christmas with you, give up. Leave your message after the beep.” Warned the new message on the answering machine. Made especially for the occasion of Christmas.

Aziraphale, already anxious about the call, even stuttered a little at the beginning of the message. He was a bit contained in his words. Pride. Not wanting to denounce the naked truth, which would only add to Crowley's huge Ego.

“Crowley, it's me, you know. I'm calling to officially invite you to Christmas. You _are as important as everyone else_ and deserve a particular invitation. Sorry to have made you carry shopping and other boring tasks. You don't have to do anything ... Just show up. I'll be waiting.” He finished expectantly, as if Crowley could pick up the phone and say something anytime now. But the silence remained.

Crowley was patiently waiting for Christmas to pass so he could breathe a sigh of relief. He didn't remember Christmas being so uncomfortable in many years, but now that he could 'enjoy it' finally after Armageddon, he seemed particularly infuriated with anything to do with the celebration.

He had hoped Aziraphale would try to convince him to give up the idea of staying home, but he was determined. A few bottles of wine and a peaceful sleep would solve everything. Maybe he slept all 25 th day, too.

The Demon tried to stay out of the house as little as possible. It was all a trap. Choirs were suddenly emerging as if coming out of a dimensional portal, elf-clad vendors were jumping out of stores to announce offers, music was everywhere, at all times, almost part of the silence.

More or less people dressed up like Santa Claus sprouted around every corner. People ran like crazy from one place to another, carrying packages, bags, boxes, children, in enormous pressure to do something that seemed more of a torment than a joy.

The weather was freezing cold. He bought a few bottles of the best red wine he could find and rushed to the safety of his home.

When Crowley finally found himself at home, he closed the door behind him like a hatch that kept him safe from the outside mad world. He set the bottles on the table, which made a loud, thudding noise, as if the place echoed, which the Demon found strange.

He heard the message again on his answering machine as he analyzed Aziraphale's decidedly apologetic tone and sighed with the same sadness Aziraphale did in his bookstore, but every time he mentioned 'other people', things got worse… Only an Angel could make someone 'tempted' to 'regret'.

His attention was diverted as a chill ran down his spine, followed by a sneeze. Then, he noted with awe, that despite being indoors, the same cold remained. He tried to regulate the thermostat, realizing that it was completely normal, then deduced that he must have been out for a long time in the snowless cold and his body had lost a lot of heat. He rubbed his hands and smiled. It was Christmas Eve and Crowley was ready.

As soon as he picked up the bottles to put them away, he heard a strange noise coming from the back of the apartment. Something like a door creaking. Crowley set the bottles aside and raised his fists.

His first thought was that a Demon had decided to visit him, which was no good considering how much he was well liked. He had no holy water this time and his imagination for deadly traps wasn’t very good in those days.

Then he took one of the bottles. If he had to sacrifice it to knock out an intruder, it would be a worthy end to such a good yet necessary wine. He was slowly approaching the pantry.

An opaque, faint glow like the one of a faded white lamp escaped from under the door. Crowley came in at once and struck the air. The place was empty. The Demon felt a little stupid for a moment, but it was only until he turned and faced ... Ligur?

"Ligur?" He stammered with a puzzled look. It couldn’t be ...

Not exactly the Ligur Crowley knew, but a ghostly version of him. The figure seemed semitransparent and deplorable as ever, only worse, quite dead, and a little past the usual point. The dim glow emanated from him emphasize that this wasn’t an everyday phenomenon. Crowley's rational mind screamed that Ligur was dead.

In fact, not only dead, but nonexistent, cuz he had been extinguished with holy water, yet what appeared to be an unpleasant spiritual version of him stood right before him. Crowley continued, as in an internal monologue.

“It can't be… Ligur… that's impossible. It can't be ... It's impossible. I killed him, didn't I? I killed... ‘Unreturnable’.” But his moment of hesitation didn’t last that long. The presence in front of him wouldn’t allow it.

In addition, just in case Crowley threw a bottle on Ligur's head, or what appeared to be his head, and it just cut through the body of the former Demon and smashed to the floor, scattering shards of glass all over the place in a futile crash. Good wine waste. The possibility of being another Demon pretending to be Ligur also didn't work anymore.

Crowley began to shiver a little. Seeing nowhere to go, he crossed the creature's body as fast as he could, walking toward the room as if he might lose it, only to realize that, without giving him rest, as should be the specialty of a wandering soul, the same creature reappeared before him without a word to say. Crowley had lost his tongue, and the two of them would have been still and silent if Ligur didn't take the initiative.

“I will sit down. Sit down too, Crowley.”said the dead man.

Out of common sense or dread, Crowley obeyed and sat on the couch, at a point where he considered a safe distance from the other. Safe distance from someone who couldn't be avoided.

“Ligur. You're dead! I killed you myself. I'm sure of it! ”Crowley said in a mixture of shivering cold and fear. One thing masked the other. He still sounded a little determined, sure of himself. Pretending well.

“Yes… I know that well. Not only did you kill me, you ravish me completely. Leaving no trace of me. Sneakily and unfairly. And you would have done the same to Hastur if you still had holy water. Me, Crowley ... What harm have I ever done to you? I should have done some and it would be a fair death. ”The deceased argued with a hint of resentment, but without seeming to motivate his visit the reason he showed.

"Thissss ... isss not the point ..." Crowley hissed and clapped his chin. “Could you make this room a little warmer? Never mind ... What I mean is that it's impossible for you to be here. You are no more. You no longer exist anywhere. You just ceased to exist. ”

“Why, Crowley, don't trust your own senses? "

“Senses are not reliable, just a little indigestion to change them.”

“Crowley, since this is definitely the last time we see each other, I won't bother you too long. I've been wandering since I died, finding no rest, until I could get a message across. I have no idea why I was chosen, maybe because it hurt me so badly and I never even thought about it. ”

"Well, Ligur, tell me already, the furniture is creating stalactites!" He asked exasperated.

“You will receive, after me, the visit of three other ghosts. They'll start to appear tomorrow. This is your last chance to regret the path you are taking. Then there will be no turning back. That is all I have to say. I hopeto never see you again. ”

"Ghosts, what kind of ghosts?" He asked confused. "I don't want to see any ghosts."

“Deal with themselves. I’m here just to tell you the message. The first one will come tomorrow by noon.” He said getting up and heading for the door, where he slowly disappeared, as if he had never been there, leaving behind only the cold that was slowly fading.

Crowley as open-mouthed as at first, feeling a incubated fear about to explode in any stupid reaction and without understanding anything about the ghosts of the day 24th.

In the worst of doubt, and too eager to wait, he opened a bottle and began his "Christmas" right there. He sat in an armchair with his legs up on the table and turned on the TV for lack of anything to do, facing Grinch's ear-to-ear smile in a very, very old cartoon. His heart was still trying to return to its normal rhythm, and despite the cold, Crowley was sweating.

**Chapter 2**

Crowley fell asleep right there, drunk and leaning back in his black armchair. He woke up hurting, his arm dangling out of his chair, his back aching and a slight hangover that he intended to heal with some more wine. The TV was still on, in a random show.

The Demon had forgotten to set the alarm and jumped in place when he realized it was almost noon. He couldn't have slept so much!

On TV, he saw that anywhere in the world, a choir of angel-clad children sang Christmas songs as they framed the facade of a beautiful, lighted building. It was like the tip of a high heel softly crushing the Demon's heart.

He ran, counting how much time he had left until the next Phantom appear, if it would ever appear, at the answering machine, and after hearing the message prepared by himself, he waited, and this time silence pervaded the next few seconds.

Oh, how fast had Aziraphale given up on him? He really shouldn't be that important, he mused to himself. Sadness washed over him, heavy as ever. He returned the tape, just to be sure, listening with self-pity to the static, empty sound of reused cassette tapes.

“… _You better watch out_

_You better not cry_

_Better not pout_

_I'm telling you why_

_Santa Claus is coming to town…”_

When he almost went against the lyrics, he felt someone poke his shoulder. The mixture of fright and the realization that it was Gabriel, the worst boss in the world and number one on his list of "Creatures who I would kill if I could" made Crowley shriek so loudly that it made him sound like a soprano in danger.

“Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. ”The Archangel spoke as he checked his manicured nails.

“Ahh! Now is ‘Everyone's I hate’ season to visit me? What do you want, you bastard? ”He spoke in a sudden outburst, engaging in a physical fight with the alleged Angel, in which the punches and kicks hit nothing.

After a few minutes of exercise, tired of struggling against the wind, he gave up and took a breath, leaning one hand against the wall.

“I didn't… finish with you yet. Get out of my house right now! ”He said breathlessly. Crowley was just taking a break.

"Crowley," said the Archangel, now finally watching the Demon. “I'm not exactly Gabriel right now, I'm the  _Ghost of Past Christmas_ . It was certain that I would come at noon. I wasn't late even a second.” Crowley would see that he was right if he was attentive. Plus he had been warned.

The ringing of all clocks seemed to sound ominous at the same time, which added to the dramatic fright.

This spirit also gave off a light, bright, clear as snow, but not too uncomfortable to look at. His presence wasn’t welcoming, it made an ambiguous impression, but it was less frightening than Ligur's one.

“Ah, I got it. It must be that thing of you all going around making announcements. Your pay must be really low for you to have a part-time job. What did you come to warn me about then?”

“Crowley… I won't be giving you an answer, but yourself will. I am not just the Ghost of Past Christmas, but of every Christmas you have ever had. Can we go for a walk?”

"Outside in the cold?" Crowley replied in a defensive posture.

"Yeah ... If you don't mind ..." He spoke through the door and waiting for Crowley outside the building. Crowley saw no alternative but to meet him. Gabriel, in fact, seemed more peaceful than usual, but not necessarily friendly. Crowley kept an eye on him all the time.

When they met in front of the building, the landscape ahead slowly changed like a moving painting, and Gabriel began to walk past it, as if choosing a setting.

“Where are we going? If you're going to show me how my Christmas were, you'll waste your time. I remember a lot of them and spent most doing completely unimportant things, in a pub, at home sleeping, completely drunk, on Saturday night's parties, these things... ”

Gabriel remained silent and gradually the occasions seemed to blur as they walked by. The clothes changed. The streets became different. The day became night, and that night had been a long time ago. The Phantom had chosen his landscape and indicated it to the Demon for his observation. It wasn’t his memory, but someone else's.

Aziraphale was at a friend's house, well dressed, happy, drinking and eating. The same kind of scene was repeated year after year. It changed the place, the friends, the clothes, but the essential remained.

Happy Aziraphale, eating and drinking, surrounded by good company. Moreover, Crowley just felt worse and worse, realizing just how irrelevant he was to his only friend.

"Take me out of here, Phantom, I don't want to see anything anymore ..." He said, looking down, feeling the loneliest and most rejected of the creatures.

“Wait a minute, there's something I didn't show you. At the end of every Christmas night, before Aziraphale goes to sleep...”

A similar scene from a little children's book was unfolding. Aziraphale, in old-fashioned nightclothes and a small cap, carried a candle to the bedroom, propped it against the headboard, and knelt beside the bed, the blanket of which was red and green in color with gold embroidery. Closing his eyes and asking with all his fervor and faith, just as Crowley had done, the Angel began his prayer.

“ _Almighty, I know I ask this every year, but I can't stop asking. I hope you are listening to me. I have a friend, my best friend actually, but he has no one else._

_I wish I could see him at Christmas, but I can't ask him and him directly, so all I wanted to ask is that he be well somewhere, happy and enjoying this day, with nice and welcoming people who make him feel loved and cared._

_Being an Angel, I can't be near him, but I'd appreciate it if You could bring him for a quick visit from time to time. Thank you so much. Amen."_

By this time, Crowley's throat was dry and his eyes wet. He struggled not to cry at the scene, but the tears fell on their own, while the Demon insisted on doing the opposite process, forcibly regaining his composure.

“Enough, Gabriel, I don't want to see anything anymore. I ... I ... disappointed Aziraphale. I got it. Despite all these people, he never forgot me ... And ... I never thought about visiting him ... I thought he wanted me far away...”

"Well, I think we have a few more things to see," said the Ghost, continuing to walk again without consulting Crowley and apparently not caring about his emotional reaction. Deep inside he was really Gabriel.

The landscape shifted again and slowly became something Crowley himself had no recollection of, except in the unconscious of his dreams, when he remembered things he supposedly shouldn’t have.

It was a beautiful and perfect place and Crowley soon realized that it couldn’t exist on Earth. It was then that his already hesitation almost reached panic. A mixed feeling of disbelief and fear of seeing something that has been lost for so long that wishing again becomes martyrdom.

"Not! This is Heaven ... I shouldn't be here. I don't remember anything from before ... I got kicked out of here. Also, what does this have to do with me now? There was no Christmas yet! I don't want to see this again, no! ”

“But there were celebrations. Pay attention to the scene. ” What a boss.

Apparently, Heaven was partying, full of colorful lights gracing the trees, and flanking the flower-filled walkways, like Christmas, but it was a bit like a fair, one where you can win a bear in a game.

The smiling Angels seemed to enjoy themselves. And even Gabriel, in this case the Archangel, who in Crowley's conception didn’t have a kindly water molecule all over his body, bought an apple of love and offered it to a short, dark-haired, very familiar girl.

The Phantom reacted uncomfortably to the scene, but Crowley was too immersed in the story to notice.

Under a tree, Raphael, looking like a teenager, and Aziraphale, a boy of about ten, exchanged gifts and talked. The principality received from Raphael a halo made of little stars, which were the Angel's favorite thing.

He smiled happily and innocently, hugging his friend fondly in thanks. Then they lay on the grass and began to watch the real stars. Raphael was said to have created many of them. The moment had a special and unique aura, and indeed it was, for it would never be repeated.

"You will never forget that, will you?" Aziraphale asked with a sweet smile after a brief conversation about celestial bodies.

“Never.” Raphael assured. “If we ever lose each other, we'll meet there!” He pointed to Alpha Centauri.

Then the memory grew blurred and distant. Partly from Crowley's sadness that escaped his eyes and his inability to continue torturing himself with those newfound memories.

"What happened next?" Crowley asked the Phantom as he sniffed despite not wanting to cry in front of Gabriel.

“You started hanging out with some ‘tough’ companies, distanced yourself from Aziraphale and ended up falling. I think you remember that well. ”

"I think so..." said the heartbroken Demon, still watching the sky and knowing it was the last time he saw it. “Can we go home now? I'm tired ... ” He said in a genuine way.

The Ghost nodded and led Crowley on his way back to the apartment. He left him sitting on the couch, as a precaution, he looked really out of breath, his head in the clouds, not so metaphorically, or in the stars.

“Well, I need to say goodbye now. Another Ghost will arrive in the afternoon.” Gabriel said.

"I said I would never forget..." Crowley muttered to himself lostly as he stared at a completely black wall.

“Your memory has been erased. His memory too.” The Ghost explained, before disappearing even more discreetly than Ligur.

_However, he remembered Alpha Centauri…_

**Chapter 3**

After the episode with the first Ghost, Crowley was lost in thought. Seeing himself as an Angel again had the impact of an anvil deep in his stomach. The worst then was knowing that the episode in the Garden of Eden hadn’t happened by chance.

Maybe he had never completely forgotten. However, Aziraphale did. And, that was so sad. Everything was sad. That fake Gabriel had appeared to put him in the worst state of mind he could.

Crowley's sudden depression hit him so hard that when the second ghost came, he sat on the couch, tired of waiting, walked around the house, filled himself a glass of wine, since his parents never let him drink and practically hiccuped back into the living room, sitting while biting a huge Christmas cane. He shook Crowley with his sweetened hands.

“Crowley! Crowley! Wakey wakey! ”Shouted the boy.

“Hm? Adam ?! What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm the ...  _Ghost of Present Christmas_ ..." He spoke in a slightly slurred voice.

"Are you drunk?" He asked worriedly, checking on the boy. "How much did you drink?"

“Just a little. Don't worry, I'm a Phantom ... Do you like Christmas candy? They are great. My mom is going to make a caramel tender and a nut pie ... And I'll get gifts from uncles I don't even know! ”He said finding it all very funny. After all, alcohol made him a little happier than usual.

“You don't look like a Phantom… By the way, even if you were, you're the Antichrist! This is a logical impossibility. Telling me about the spirit of Christmas, you are the least suitable person for the case! Ngh ... That's too much. ” He commented starting to find a joke this Christmas spirit business. Who would they send next? Lord Beelzebub?

Adam became more serious. The purposeful and sassy boy he was.

“I am proof that your supposed essence does not determine the kind of person you choose to be. I am the Antichrist who will celebrate Christmas, while you are a poor Demon who can't get over such a simple thing. ”

"Ah, you little brat ..." A child's offense pissed him off for a second, before Crowley focused on the main information. If Adam, who was Satan's own son, could deny his origins and decide to be happy with people he loves, why was he being an asshole?

“And you don't know what you’re losing, Christmas is wonderful. However, I am a child. All I see is the most beautiful, the happiest, the most perfect. There is no bad Christmas for me.”

"Are you Adam or a Ghost?"

"Both," he specified.

"So Gabriel was trying to outwit me."

“Forget it and let's get to work. I warn you that it will be short. Nothing like the odyssey the first Ghost put you through. We can go from here. I’ll open a little window ... ”

A passageway gradually opened for both of them and it lead them to Aziraphale's bookshop. Crowley sighed. he didn't imagine anything different.

“Do you all want to torture me?” The Demon wailed.

“More or less that. Only slowly ... ”The boy answered.

When the passage became large enough, they could come in and contemplate the beautiful Christmas that was taking place there. Even Adam was there, playing with other children. The bookstore was beautiful, decorated with all the affection, something that was perceived in the smallest details.

Anathema and Newt dated on the couch, talking and laughing at some things, while Aziraphale periodically served everyone snacks and drinks, while supper wasn’t ready.

The warm, cozy and almost divine atmosphere of the place made everyone comfortable and happy. There was no reason for anyone to feel bad there. However, as soon as supper began to be served, Adam fired at the question.

“But Aziraphale, why isn't Crowley here? Didn't you invite him? ”

“I invited him of course, my dear. But he had other plans.” The Angel justified himself, hoping to get out of that situation with a lame excuse.

“What other plans?” Pepper asked. “What could be more important than being with us?”

"Ah ... You don't understand yet my child... Adult stuff ..." Aziraphale tried to keep dodging.

"I didn't want to mention ..." Anathema said very seriously. “But did you guys fight? Honestly it's not the same without him here. ”

Aziraphale felt bombarded by the questions and a little helpless.

"Why don't we call Crowley and ask him to come?" Adam said again.

"I-I have called him several times ... and asked him to come, but he wants to be alone ... He doesn't like Christmas." Aziraphale finally confessed, feeling terrible.

_Crowley hadn’t received any of these calls._

Opinions kept bouncing back and forth, but generally the idea was that people wanted Crowley to be there. That he was necessary and not forgettable. He was part of the “family,” the Demon overheard someone say, and that made that leap from before smash his heart until blood and arteries jumped.

Now he wasn’t only devastated, but also  _ashamed_ . He had chosen to leave Aziraphale behind because of 'other people', while they now seemed to fight to have his presence there. Cuz he was missing. Because he was dear. Even loved maybe.

It was the first time he realized that humans could really like him despite of what he was. He was so wrong about everything… He felt so stupid.

"I think we've seen enough..." said the Phantom. But Crowley wanted to go on, as if to confirm that people would continue to talk about him, but he soon realized Aziraphale's sad countenance.

Something that told him that, although all happiness on the surface, the Angel missed him most and deeply. He had ruined Christmas not only for his friends, but for the creator of the whole party.

The Phantom led Crowley to the exit and closed the passage slowly, leaving the scene etched as a photograph in the Demon's mind.

It was the first Christmas after Armageddon and people weren't exactly happy. Someone even quietly asked Aziraphale.

“Isn't he your boyfriend? Why did he leave you alone at Christmas? ”It was a brick, above the shoe, that crushed his heart. 

“Well, my work over here is over. Are you ok Crowley? ”

"I don’t know…"

"You look pale. Better go to bed.” In fact, the Demon felt dizzy and very cold, that misty exit should have made his situation worse.

"I'm going to lie down a little ... You can leave.." And so he said goodbye to the Spirit, trying to lie in bed and passing out immediately.

**Chapter 4**

Crowley woke up with no idea of the time, but it should have been a few hours since he fell asleep. He still felt a little dizzy and, in the dark room, noticed his phone vibrating with notifications.

He had time to read that there were missed calls, the caller's name hard to see, but when he faced the front door, even in the dark and half-blurry eyes, he could clearly see the a black figure who looked like rise from the ground, from a stain on the floor, it was the height of a tall human being.

The Demon didn't even need the cold to quiver his jaw in fear. That Entity imposed itself terrifyingly, without even moving, or saying a word. Crowley turned on the lights, which only made his situation even worse, seeing in detail what stood before him.

Wearing only a long black tunic and measuring almost two meters in height, without eyes, arms or feet that could be seen, the entity was terrifying even for those who didn’t believe in haunts. And Crowley now understood well why.

Before him was one of the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. The one who couldn’t be beaten and who, regardless of time and place, was diligently up to do his work. The coldest of them, if Death had any feelings at all.

Death did his job, that was all. Without choosing who deserved or not. Judging wasn’t his department. But if it wasn’t, what was Death doing there staring at Crowley motionlessly, like a wax statue?

Crowley decided to face his fears and rehearsed a dialogue with the visitor. Certainly, his time was almost up. And if it came to an end, he could no longer regret it and have his life back.

"Are you the  _Ghost of Future Christmas_ ?" Death answered him nothing. Crowley swallowed hard. He knew who it was, but deduced that at that moment Death was playing another role.

“You must have something to show me, don't you? Please do this already so that I may know how to repair my mistakes.” He spoke politely. After all, _no deal should be made with Death._

Death moved his bony, dead hand to the hem of his tunic and with one movement, raised dust, causing the scenery to change and taking Crowley along with him.

What the Phantom showed Crowley, the Demon didn't understand. It looked like a desert. A vastness of desolation. No living creature, even single a lizard or a plant. No water. The sky was partly dark, but not by an upcoming rain but by a kind of black soot that made the air heavy, difficult to breathe.

“What is this, Ghost? Is this the future? I don’t understand anything..."

“THIS IS THE FUTURE YOU WANTED. A NEW ARMAGEDDON. THE EXTINCTION OF HUMANITY. ”

“Wished? When? I’ve never ... ” Then Crowley remembered his little wish in the car. That request to Satan that no Christmas ever happen again.

_He had asked for the end of everything._

"No ... No ... That can be changed, isn't it?" He asked trying to keep his hopes up in the void that surrounded him. He still wanted to believe it wasn't really the future but just an illusion. “I didn’t mean to want that. I was just angry... ”

“YOUR REQUEST HAS BEEN TURNED REALITY. A FUTURE WITHOUT CHRISTMAS. ”

“My… For the love of… something… what about the people? And Aziraphale? Demons, humans, Angels, where are they? ”He asked even more concerned. Crowley was beginning to panic. "I just didn't want Christmas anymore, not the extinction ... OF EVERYTHING!"

"EVERYONE PERISHED, UNLESS YOU."

"No! You’re lying! I don’t believe it, I would have protected Aziraphale, I would have saved him! ” First reaction to something we cannot accept.  _Denial._

Death moved his hand and the scenery changed again. This time Crowley was startled by the chaotic environment in which he found himself in. In the midst of a city falling apart, fire everywhere, plagues of all kinds, people rushing to save themselves hopelessly, Angels and Demons fought a deadly battle in which, unfortunately, there were no winners. One side only exterminated the other gradually.

Wherever he went, Crowley saw people in agony, begging for help, lost children, crying, suffering, screams, _death_. Everything Crowley had known and learned to love on Earth no longer existed. Extermination. Doom.

His favorite places being destroyed, his friends dying. The feeling that he had nothing to live for was growing bigger by the second. A great pain that couldn’t be described and that was permeated by the worst of regrets:  _being his wish the cause of all that_ . 

The fault of wanting what he shouldn’t have. Never. ‘Why did I do that? ´ Crowley wondered. And his conscience answered him nothing.

Crowley wept and occasionally covered his eyes, not wanting to witness so many deaths and misfortunes all his fault. Grumpy as he was, Crowley loved the Earth. That was the truth. He loved it as much as Aziraphale. Wasn't that why they had stopped Armageddon for the first time?

He loved living there ... And these people were actually far more important to him than Angels or Demons, even if he didn't admit it. They were innocent. However, the truth is, no one deserved that end. Neither the Earth nor any creature.

"Ghost, why didn't Aziraphale and I stop Armageddon this time, tell me please?" He said between sobs. "What happened to him? I need to see..."

Even Death seemed hesitant to point out that last bit of history, but if it was any consolation, nothing worse than that would be shown to Crowley later.

He heeded Crowley's request and showed him a scene in which Aziraphale, therefore his flaming sword, fought alone against a much more powerful Demon. The Earth was devastated and few were left.

The Angel had a serious and suffering countenance. Perhaps surviving and seeing what he had seen had been way more painful than dying. Watching that scene was Crowley himself, along with some Demons. Safe.

Not only did he do  _nothing_ to help Aziraphale, he had a sarcastic, sadistic smile on his face. He seemed happy that Angel was in this situation. Satisfied even. Aziraphale watched him with a mixture of anger and deep sadness, as if this had been the worst betrayal.

Letting a tear escape, Aziraphale attacked the Demon with all his strengh, opening a deep wound into his skin. However, the retaliation happened quickly. The strong Demon, with his long arm, hit the Angel, knocking him against a crumbling wall.

The 'Crowley of the future' watched with a small smile. Before Aziraphale slid down the wall and reached the floor, the Demon found him in a mad fury, breaking all the bones of the poor defenceless principality.

Finally, tired of that, the Demon accepted a metal bar that Crowley's own group offered and pierced Aziraphale's body with it, killing the Angel, who lay stuck in the wall like some macabre trophy celebrating the end of that game. End time war.

The present Crowley, freezed, fell to his knees screaming as loudly as he could. Until his vocal cords start to hurt. He said nothing meaningfully, just screamed and cried al the tears he could, letting all his pain out, bending down and starting to cry softly, almost in a groan.

When his forces returned he still crawled on his knees to the Phantom and grabbed his hand and his dusty tunic in a desperate gesture.

"Please! I beg you! I do anything! Prevent me from this fate. Free the Earth, the people ... and ... Aziraphale !!! Take me in his place! Tell me what to do!” He pleaded as he tugged at Death's hand as he tried to pull away from him even more.

No dealings with Death, but Crowley was completely blind with despair. He hadn’t seen his own death. However, the one of his Angel did a much greater damage to his already fragile mind. Desperation reigned within him… Crowley had never asked for something as forcefully as he had at that moment, much more than when he wanted Armageddon, driven entirely by anger.

“No, no… Don't leave me… Don't go away! Tell me I can undo it! I regret it, I deeply regret it. A thousand times I do regret it. I beg God for forgiveness if I have to. Just give me a chance ... I can't have done that ... with Aziraphale ... I ... ” Did he love Aziraphale? Was that what he was going to say? Everything was so confused in his mind and heart that all the feelings mixed together...

He watched Death disappear once again, becoming the broken cloth on the floor and his despair only increased. He kept screaming and pleading as tears rolled his eyes in endless weeping, like the pain he had seen in the scenes shown by the last Ghost.

**Chapter 5**

“Crowley! Crowley! ”Aziraphale screamed and shook the Demon, who was screaming at the top of his lungs, having a nightmare about the end of the world, probably. When he managed to wake Crowley up, the Angel was hugged tightly as the Demon shed tears and called out his name, speaking incomprehensible things between painful sobs. He seemed still in despair even awake.

“Azi ... Aziraphale .. Aziraphale ... Aziraphale ... You are here ... Here ... Don't go away. I'm sorry I screwed up. I ruined Christmas, every single Christmas ... ” He said sniffling and begging the principality.

"Forgive me, please .... I didn't know ..." He sobbed and hid his face against the Angel's clothes like a frightened child. He needed some confirmation that Aziraphale was in front of him after watching his death right before his eyes. The death he himself desired.

“Crowley… Dear boy, it's ok… You got sick, that's what happened. I've been calling you through the phone for a few days, but you didn't answer, so I decided to come here and see what was going on, even with your very specific message on your answering machine. ”He said slightly resentfully, it had hurt him more than he could put in words, but ... He just didn't buy that it was all rejection, something was very wrong.

"You must have been in the snow, had a high fever and were saying things that didn't make sense for hours ... Rest, please, I've taken care of everything for you already..." Crowley even remembered that, some memories .. Aziraphale trying to call him insistently... The message on his answering machine... The drunkenness .... Soon he was suddenly embarrassed by his childish attitude.

"So it was all a dream?" He asked the goatee.

"It felt more like a nightmare the way you moved and babbled ... I got scared." Confessed the Angel looking really worried, had never seen Crowley like that in his sleep, after all sleeping was the Demon's favorite pastime. He even spent centuries handed over to Morpheus. 

"All...? I've been here since yesterday, dear... ” The Angel spoke with the sweetest of expressions, though looking a little tired and confused.

"What day is it?" Crowley wanted to confirm. He needed to confirm.

"2 pm on the 24th..." Aziraphale glanced at his pocket watch. He thought Crowley had lost track of time after this truly traumatic experience. What had been going through his mind to have left him in such a state of despair? What could scare a Demon so much? It had all happened when he went out to buy wine in the cold…

“What about Christmas?” Crowley asked him with eyes still puffy and red from crying after a while realizing what day it was. A heartbreaking vision really.

“I canceled Christmas. You need someone to take care of you… With all this fever… ” The Angel spoke protectively. "I couldn't party knowing that .... My best friend needed me ..." He pondered what he should call him. After that fight he no longer knew if he could refer to Crowley like that. However, he was an Angel, had to be protective over all creatures. Especially the one he loved most.

"You said Christmas was uncancelable ... Oh ... Aziraphale ..." Crowley said melting like butter, even though he felt relatively guilty for being a jerk. Christmas was cancelable for him ... He bit his lip, nervous and ashamed. He couldn’t see on his Angel's face a trace of sadness or anger at having canceled his party. Probably those who in your view called him 'family' understood that it was due to force majeure... He was more important than Christmas for sure. That was the proof.

He felt warm inside and deeply grateful for what Aziraphale did for himself. No one would have done the same ... It had to be his Angel. His heart pounded and his cheeks flushed. "Thank you so much." he said with a husky voice.

"Yes, now lie back and rest ..." Azi said more imperatively frowning playfully like a mother ordering a child. He always knew what was best for the stubborn Demon, no matter how much Crowley didn't hear him almost ever. 

"No, no. No way. I'm already fine. Christmas is still uncancelable! Let's take care of everything together! I mean it! ”He assured, already getting out of bed to change clothes vehemently disobeying his Angel.

“In fact, your fever is gone now… It was just a nightmare. But wear a heavy coat and I'll keep an eye on you. ” The Angel said not wanting to ruin the other's burst of happiness. It looked really genuine and it made him deeply realized that he had used his time to take care of Crowley. Especially with that shy thanks ... It made him melt inside. What would have made Crowley stop being so grumpy on a holiday he had hated until then?

Aziraphale didn’t understand Crowley's sudden change of attitude, but he smiled happily. And kept smiling for the rest of the day. He had forgiven him for everything he had done.

Crowley, now filled with unheard-of joy and excitement, helped Aziraphale with all his pending tasks without letting his smile fade away in any moment, always wishing Merry Christmas to anyone he could, treating well to people he didn't even know. Although it was already 2 pm on the 24th and they were late for everything that had been canceled so far, one miracle here and one there and shortened everything that could be done in half the time.

He promised the Angel that next year would be different, apologizing, saying that they would do everything with time, the way it has to be. Planned in the smallest details. Aziraphale almost cried with excitement seeing the Devmon already thinking about next Christmas and not wanting an Armageddon anymore. Whatever happened to him ... It worked switching him from water to wine ... Wine ... They would have to buy a good one too.

Aziraphale was more than surprised. They bought the rest of the gifts, reinvited the people to whom they said Christmas had been canceled, and began to sort things out in the kitchen, as some dishes take a long time to prepare. The smell of sweet and salty mingled around the warm house, making everything cozier.

"Maybe we should make a nut pie," Aziraphale suggested.

“No need. Adam's mom will bring it…”answered Crowley.

“But how do you know…?” They hadn't spoken previously... How could Crowley know that? The Demon just winked at him, playfull. Something told him not to leave Adam alone with the wine or...

As they waited, they began placing the presents under the tree and Crowley offered to go up and look at some ornaments that had bent a little. The Angel kept smiling and Crowley seemed even happier to be able to return Christmas to its proper place. The Aziraphale bookstore and his friends. If it was the 24th, it meant he still had a chance, he had been truly forgiven. He would never despise such a lesson. Not after the living nightmare he had gone through.

As night fell slowly, the guests were arriving. Each with their gifts and beautiful dishes to spice up the supper. Aziraphale lit some scented candles taking care not to set fire to everything and put on a nice song. The fireplace was also lit, the night promised to have a blizzard and he didn't want anyone to get the flu ... Especially Crowley who had recently recovered from a fever and wasn’t able to control his body temperature very well.

Crowley, smiling and friendly, treated everyone with warmth and affection, remembering very well from what Adam had shown him, that they were also his friends. That they weren't vying for Aziraphale's attention with him. And even if they weren't, they were friends with his Angel, so that mean they were in the heart of someone who was important to him too. Crowley had to learn to live together to make Aziraphale happy, and he did that the hard way.

People joked that Crowley seemed so manic and so happy and asked the Angel if it had anything to do with him. Aziraphale smiled awkwardly and dodged the subject. He didn't even understand what was happening, but he truly hoped it was all true and would be that way from now on ... It was a dream come true for Azi.

Things looked a lot like Adam's memory, but with the difference that there was no bad mood from Crowley's absence and Azi's palpable sadness. The children and some of their parents were there. Anathema and Newt too. Mr Shadwell and his now wife, ex Madame Tracy, couldn’t attend because they were on a honeymoon trip, hunting witches and counting nipples.

Everyone was pleased, happy and Aziraphale was radiant, the Angel didn’t know but he emitted a different light, a warm and delicious energy, when in that state of pure bliss. Crowley could clearly see ...

Supper was served slowly with the help of Anathema. A beautiful and rich table was set, where the guests sat, talked, smiled, drank and ate for a long time. Satisfied, they sat at the base of the tree to open the presents.

It was past midnight and Aziraphale wouldn’t wait until Christmas morning, curious to know what they had bought for himself ... Of course not counting on the Demon's gift. Everything he had done that day had been far better than anything that could be placed in a box with a pretty ribbon bow on it.

Before handing over his gift, Crowley decided to talk a bit.

“Friends, I can say that I finally understood the meaning of Christmas. Before, I didn't remember having a good or relevant one, or even liking that date, which you must understand, because I am what I am. ” Even then he was able to speak openly about his always hated nature. There he knew that there were people who didn’t consider him a hideous Demon. They considered him, of all they could, _family._ Something he never had. That was a tremendous Christmas gift for Crowley.

“However, on those days when I was sick, I realized that I have true friends and that a particular friend who was able to give up his Christmas for me. A date that means so much to him ... In fact, Aziraphale, what a fool I am, you must always have been watching over me and I didn't realize it, right? ”Now he knew well that he looked and prayed for himself for all those years spent apart. And handed over his Christmas present. A volume of Charles Dickens's ‘A Christmas Carol’, original. It's very rare.

“It's a first edition. I hope you enjoy... ” He said with a smile acting naturally as if he had actually bought the book. He didn't know where it had come from, but in the middle of tidying up, something caught his eye under the tree as Aziraphale went to take a shower. Surely, it had been one of the Ghosts that gave him, seeing that he had really learned his lesson... But how to explain this to the Angel? Christmas magic.

“Oh Crowley! Thank you! You know how much I love rare books! ”He said happily as ever showing everyone the book full of pride, happy as a child with a new toy. The people around seemed really impressed that even sick Crowley still had time to prepare that for Azi.

“I have something for you too. And I don't know why I bought it. You may find something silly or meaningless. But when I saw it, I had a Deja vu. Something I can't explain… I just felt it.” He laughed awkwardly afraid that Crowley wouldn't like it.

He handed over a small, nicely decorated box with a huge multi-layered bow. The Demon carefully untied the ties and opened the box, finding a small halo made of stars inside.

"Zira ... oh ... Thank you, my Angel." It was identical to what he had seen in the memory of the first Ghost. And how Aziraphale had remembered, he didn't know. Another Christmas miracle maybe. But he felt, ironically, blessed by that, putting it on his head like a little angel. Tonight he would be one by Azi’s intervention.

"Let this be the first of infinite Christmases we will have together," said Aziraphale with contentment. As a blessing once again.

The night went on a little longer. The jokes about the two being boyfriends only raised a small flush on Aziraphale's face along with a silly bliss within him. To Crowley everything was fine as long as Armageddon was canceled and he didn't have to lose the other one again. 

Crowley didn't know if it had all been a dream, but his guess was no. He had a second chance to be happy for real and would make the best of it.

Already thinking of setting up an inevitable situation for both of them, Anathema suggested that they stay in a specific position to take a Christmas photo, then revealed.

“They are under a mistletoe. You know what the tradition says. And I don't think Crowley will want to break any of these today, will he? ”She waited with his arms crossed as all the rest of the guests focused on them. They seemed to be momentarily the main attraction of the party. And it couldn’t be any different, they were meant to be,

_Then they kissed sweetly. Living it fully, the so famous Christmas spirit._


End file.
